


Day 7 - Cosplaying

by AislinMarue



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge - Destiel - Castiel/Dean Winchester [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Cosplay, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, Surprise Guest Appearance - Freeform, angel!cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislinMarue/pseuds/AislinMarue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters and Castiel must dress up to play their parts at a cosplaying convention while hunting demons. A surprise guest and new revelations are encountered along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 7 - Cosplaying

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, this one was so fun to write. Figured you guys were due for a bit of action, Destiel style, but I also threw in a surprise character for your enjoyment. Feedback is greatly encouraged and appreciated! Thank you!

Dean eyed his brother dubiously from across the living room. He couldn’t be serious.

“You can’t be serious,” he said aloud even as he thought the words.

“Y’know, every time you say that to me, I’m usually serious. You’d think you would be used to it by now.” Sam was standing at the foot of his bed, arms crossed over his chest.

“No way, man. Not happening,” Dean said, shaking his head. He crossed his feet at the ankles on the bed, bringing his bottle of beer to his lips for a drink.

“Dean, you want to track those demons or not, dude?” Sam asked, dark brow arching as he watched his brother.

“Not at some freakin’ nerd get-together!” The elder Winchester sounded almost petulant, earning an eyeroll from his younger brother.

“Charlie would kick your ass if she heard you call it that. It’s a cosplay convention.”

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” Castiel spoke up from his seat at the table, interrupting the bickering, “You want us to attend a gathering that will be full of people in different costumes? Like Halloween?”

“Exactly! Our costumes don’t have to be anything elaborate or ornate obviously. We don’t have to go all out. Cas, I figured you could go as Constantine. He’s a fictional character that dresses basically like you do with the coat and suit. So you’re already covered,” Sam said, entirely too cheerful for Dean’s liking.

“All right, smartass, what am I going as then since you’ve got this all figured out?”

Sam turned to Dean, bitchface #14 (You’re-Such-An-Idiot-But-I’ll-Put-Up-With-It-For-Now) firmly in place, “You can slap on a suit and play a fed. Or James Bond. Pick one. But do it quickly.”

“What will you be dressing as?” Castiel asked, head tilting as he regarded Sam curiously.

Here, the younger Winchester grinned a bit, but shrugged, “I wanted to go as Sherlock Holmes, but I don’t have anything I could use as a costume for it.”

Dean laughed at Sam’s response, earning bitchface #47 (I’m-Two-Seconds-Away-From-Killing-You).

“You need the clothing of a man named Sherlock Holmes for your costume?” the angel inquired to clarify.

When Sam nodded, Castiel vanished with a rush of wind and wings, leaving the Winchesters to look at each other in surprise for a few moments.

“What the-,” Dean began, but blinked when Castiel reappeared. He was not alone.

Standing beside the angel was a tall, pale man with dark, curly hair and bright blue eyes wearing a long dark coat and a blue scarf. The man looked around in shock, obviously startled by his sudden change of location. His voice was deep, accent British when he spoke.

“What the bloody hell?!” he exclaimed, looking around at Castiel and the Winchesters warily.

“Ohio, actually,” Castiel pointed out, the stranger then focusing on the angel in stunned disbelief.

“Cas, what the hell?” Dean asked, standing up from the bed.

“Sam said he needed the clothing of a man named Sherlock Holmes. So I found him. He was in London,” Cas pointed out, as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world for him to do just because Sam had said he needed it.

While Dean was touched at Cas’ desire to help his brother out, even on something so small as a costume, the hunter shook his head. Before he could speak, however, Castiel continued, speaking directly to Sherlock.

“We need your clothing. Strip,” the angel ordered, causing the man, Sherlock, to sputter indignantly.

“I beg your pardon? I most certainly will not!” the Brit said, stepping away from Castiel quickly.

“Whoa! No, that’s okay, I’ll manage, Cas.” Sam stepped forward, hands raised to try to calm the startled detective down.

“Just bring him back where you found him, Cas. Mojo his mind or something so he won’t remember this, would ya?” Dean said, moving over to Sherlock and guiding him back to Castiel. Sherlock eyed the angel dubiously.

“My apologies,” Cas nodded, reaching to take the human’s arm and return him to England where he belonged. Before they vanished, however, Castiel paused, eyeing Sherlock up and down.

“Nice coat,” he mused briefly, then the pair vanished, leaving the brothers alone once again.

“Yikes,” Sam muttered, running a hand through his long hair, glancing at Dean.

“Yep.” The elder hunter flopped back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Just try to figure out whatever you’re gonna wear to this...cosplay thing. Whatever it is.”

“Guess I’ll just do what you’re doing. Dress like a fed,” Sam mused, picking up his duffle bag from the floor by his bed and rummaging through it.

A few seconds later, Castiel returned with the familiar rustling of wings.

“Put him back with his tea and crumpets where he belonged?” Dean asked, smirking at the angel.

“Yes, but there was nothing resembling sustenance in his dwelling. Merely a strange collection of body parts.”

Sam paused in his searching, looking up at Castiel. “You serious?”

“Every time you ask me that, I usually am,” the angel pointed out, quoting Sam’s earlier words back at him. Sam’s response was to shake his head and go back to looking through his bag.

Dean rose from the bed, moving toward the bathroom after snagging his suit.

“Be out in a few,” he called to the pair before closing the door behind him.

Sam glanced up in time to see Castiel vanish once more. He sighed, but pulled out the things he’d need, figuring the angel would return when it was time. 

It was hard to hold back the laugh when he heard his brother’s indignant squawk on the other side of the bathroom door.

~*~*~*~*~

In the bathroom, Dean was slipping his jeans off, his shirt already discarded on the counter. He turned to grab the suit hanging up behind him, clad only in his boxers, then jumped back against the counter when he encountered the wayward angel who was deeply into his personal space as usual.

“Dean, I don’t understand the point of this exercise,” Castiel said without preamble, though those blue eyes gave the hunter a full once over that had Dean’s skin darkening.

“Personal space, man! And you know we’re tracking demons. Sam just wants to blend in.”

Castiel didn’t step back as he normally would whenever Dean mentioned those personal boundaries. Instead, the angel remained where he was, head tilted as he studied Dean intently. The angel’s eyes strayed to Dean’s shoulder where his handprint used to be, gaze tinged with what Dean couldn’t help but think looked like sadness.

“Cas? What’s wrong?” the hunter inquired, concern leaking into his tone and leaving him forgetful of his state of dress as he took a step closer.

Castiel didn’t look up at Dean for a long moment and for a time, Dean didn’t think he was going to at all, but when he did, that sadness lingered. The angel breathed a quiet sigh, the hunter able to feel it gently against his face.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous,” he said simply, shaking his head.

“Nah, c’mon, man, I won’t,” Dean prompted, trying to look as sincere as possible.

Cas seemed to be weighing his choice, but finally answered Dean’s question, though he lowered his gaze to somewhere in the middle of Dean’s chest.

“I miss it being there,” Castiel admitted softly, quietly, jerking his head slightly toward Dean’s shoulder. So quietly Dean almost hadn’t heard it. 

“What, the handprint?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s deep voice remained just as quiet, the angel still not meeting Dean’s gaze.

The human’s eyes closed for a few moments, taking in this secret his angel had so quietly admitted. His angel. He always had been, hadn’t he? Well, there was only one response he could give then, wasn’t there.

Lifting both hands, Dean framed Castiel’s face, causing blue eyes to dart up and connect with green. Dean offered a small yet genuine smile in response.

“I miss it, too,” he said quietly, watching as Castiel’s features reflected his initial surprise upon hearing Dean’s words, then a glimmer of something very much like hope.

“You do?” Cas asked quietly, peering at Dean intently.

“Yep.” He nodded, shifting slightly closer still and completely disregarding his own rules about personal space.

Dean could feel Castiel’s reaction, the way his breath quickened slightly, those wide blue eyes remaining locked on his own. He licked his lips and saw the angel’s gaze dart down to follow his tongue’s movement before returning to Dean’s eyes.

It was simultaneously the easiest and most difficult thing Dean had ever done when he closed that small gap between their lips, brushing his own lightly against Castiel’s and hearing the angel’s breath hitch upon contact.

Just a soft little butterfly kiss at first, but Dean found himself leaning in once more to add more pressure, his mouth soft and plush against Castiel’s.

The angel made a sound low in his throat, almost a quiet whimper as he lifted his arms and hesitantly returned the kiss. One arm went around Dean’s waist gently, the other going higher to cradle the back of Dean’s head in his palm, fingers combing through short, dark blond strands.

That whimper was his undoing, the hunter’s arms winding tightly around his angel and pulling Castiel fully against him as he attempted to deepen the kiss. 

It became a soft moan as Dean’s tongue trailed softly over Castiel’s lips, the angel parting them automatically to allow Dean entrance with no hesitation shown.

Castiel’s enthusiasm was intoxicating, bringing out Dean’s hunger and desire to resolve years of sexual tension in full force as he sought to dominate the angel’s tongue with his own, hands fisting in the beige material of the trenchcoat.

The kiss broke, leaving both of them panting, but Dean pressed Castiel’s back firmly against the wall with a soft thud, uncaring if Sam heard or not.

The angel tilted his head back in invitation as Dean’s mouth moved along Castiel’s jaw. He nipped and licked at the stubble-covered skin before moving down to the offering that was his angel’s neck, lips tasting where the vessel’s pulse beat frantically beneath the flesh.

Castiel groaned as Dean sucked a mark onto the base of his neck, his hips bucking against Dean’s to seek friction for the hardening length trapped inside of his slacks. Friction Dean was only too happy to provide seeing as he himself was in a similar state.

They rutted against each other, hands clutching, lips seeking, skin flushed as need consumed. The only sounds in the bathroom were quickened breaths and the angel’s quiet gasps of his hunter’s name.

That is, they were the only sounds in the bathroom until Sam knocked on the door.

“Hey, guys? Thrilled you finally figured things out, but if we don’t leave in the next couple of minutes we’re gonna be late for this convention.” Sam’s voice sounded immensely amused and Dean groaned his frustration, dropping his head to Castiel’s shoulder while he willed his erection to go away long enough that they could deal with this demon thing then get back to what they were doing.

And if Dean had anything to say about it, they were definitely coming back to this.

The hunter lifted his head, pleased when he saw the flushed, almost debauched look on Castiel’s features, though he offered one last heated kiss by way of apology.

“After we get back. Samsquatch is getting his own room,” Dean murmured, then stepped back with a wink so he could get into his suit finally. They’d danced around each other for years, after all. A bit longer wouldn’t hurt. If anything, knowing what he would have to come back to was pleasant.

Finally, Dean and Castiel stepped out of the bathroom with Dean clad in his suit and Castiel resolutely avoiding Sam’s gaze.

Sam merely laughed at Dean’s glare and Castiel’s blush, earning a “Shut up” from his brother. He took it in stride, clapping Dean on the shoulder in silent support before he disappeared into the bathroom to change.

Ten minutes later, they were all “in costume” and ready, Sam and Dean as FBI agents, Castiel as Constantine. Though Castiel looked at Sam with obvious confusion when the younger hunter insisted he keep an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

It was the wink from Dean that had him agreeing at all and soon, all three left the hotel room to begin the hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed my story! If you did, please consider buying me a ko-fi? My family and I could really use the help.
> 
> ko-fi.com/AislinMarue


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